


In Which Poor Blaine Can't Even Enjoy His Medium Drip

by Water_Nix



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-07
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Water_Nix/pseuds/Water_Nix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine are having coffee with an unwanted guest when Santana happens upon them at the Lima Bean. Kurt can't resist inviting her to join them, much to Blaine's discomfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Poor Blaine Can't Even Enjoy His Medium Drip

“Hoo-freakin'-ray, he's here again,” Kurt mutters.

“What?” Blaine looks up from sprinkling cinnamon into his coffee to see Sebastian walking towards them. He wants to groan in frustration. One awkward conversation with Sebastian over coffee had been more than enough for a lifetime.

“You know he's totally stalking you, right?” One of Kurt's perfectly coiffed eyebrows is practically in his hair – a sure sign of annoyance. After the last time Kurt had happened upon them having coffee and then the dancing at _Scandals_ , Blaine wonders if Sebastian will come out of the Lima Bean alive. He feels guilty that he doesn't really care much either way, besides the part where Kurt might get in trouble, and then Kurt whispers, “If he turns up dead, I was with you, okay?”

Blaine laughs into Kurt's shoulder, nodding.

“Fancy meeting you here! Do you always come for coffee together, or?” Kurt smirks at Sebastian's horrible attempt at masking the irritation in his voice.

“Of course we do. We've been coming here together for a year now. It's kind of our thing,” Kurt says.

“What exciting lives you both lead! I'm going to go grab a coffee.”

Kurt glares after Sebastian, pulling out a chair with more force than necessary. “We may as well sit on this side together. You know damn well that he's going to insert himself into our coffee date and I don't want him trying to cozy up next to you. Then I really would have to kill him.”

“If he tried then I would politely --” Kurt snorts. “Ask him to move.”

“And I would politely shove a stir stick down his throat.”

“So violent, my love!” Blaine says with mock offence, clutching his chest and swooning against the back of the chair.

“Practising for another school play?” Sebastian asks, sliding into the seat across from them and taking a drink from his coffee.

“Something like that,” Kurt replies, cold eyes and phony smile firmly in place. Kurt and Sebastian stare each other down for what feels like forever while Blaine sips at his coffee and studies the table feeling like a coward for not wanting to get involved. Really he wants to go hide in the restroom until Kurt finishes his coffee, or even suggest that they take it to go, so staying silent isn't the _most_ cowardly thing, he supposes. It's just so damn uncomfortable. He wishes Sebastian would take the hint and leave him alone. Or that he could find it in himself to be rude to someone just once without an attack of conscience.

“Well, hello boys,” comes a sultry voice on Blaine's right. Santana leans down next to him and places a hand on the back of his chair. “Aren't these chairs a little hard to be comfortable after having Porcelain's freakishly large unit stroking your prostate all weekend?”

Blaine can hear Kurt choking on his coffee next to him but all he can do is stare at Santana, wide-eyed. She turns her attentions on Kurt and Blaine breathes a sigh of relief. He reaches a hand down to rest on Kurt's leg for moral support as Sebastian catches his eye from across the table and winks. “What, did you think I wouldn't know? You two as clueless virgins was bad enough, now that you're getting your mack on the cartoon hearts in Blainers' eyes could take out a room full of diabetics in 3 seconds flat.”

Blaine finds that he doesn't care in the least that Santana has just broadcast their sexual escapades in the middle of a coffee shop, or that Sebastian is now looking at him like he's considering the possibility of sandwiching him between himself and Kurt, but he's really curious as to how she knows about his boyfriend's, er, _assets_. “How did you know --”

“What? That Hummel's packing a pornstar-sized pocket rocket? Seriously? Have you seen how tight his pants are? This one time he wore these plaid ones that were so painted on his enormous bulge could be seen from space. And that was only Sophomore year.”

Kurt shifts back in his chair and crosses his legs causing Blaine's hand to slide further up his thigh. Sebastian waggles his eyebrows and makes like he's peeking under the table.

“I guess that whole schoolboy act really is just an act after all,” Sebastian says. Santana gives him the once over and curls her lip in distaste.

“So tell me, boys, why are you having coffee with a giraffe in a Garglers uniform when you could be getting your big gay freak on? Or is Anderson's ass still recovering?”

“Oh, Santana sweetie, why don't you pull up a chair and join us?” Kurt asks, not even bothering to conceal his amusement. Blaine squeezes his leg in a panic but Kurt just reaches down and pats his hand without even glancing his way. He can't help but think that this is a very bad idea. Isn't Sebastian bad enough without adding Santana? It will only drag things out when they could be finishing their coffees and running for the door. But his boyfriend ignores his distress and offers to buy Santana a coffee.

“Get me a caramel macchiatto. And a cookie. I needs to get my sugar on before I meet up with Britts later.” She glares at the three of them as if daring someone to say a word. Kurt has to forcibly remove Blaine's hand from his thigh before getting up to fetch Santana her coffee.

“Now that's a gentleman,” she continues once she is satisfied that they are keeping quiet about her date. “Your game is slipping, Prince Charming. You should have been all over that the moment I walked over here.” She grabs a chair from a nearby table and pulls it over next to Blaine.

“So, you're a cheerleader,” Sebastian says, taking in her Cheerios uniform.

Santana turns her entire body in his direction and sends him her trademark withering glare before turning bodily back towards Blaine.

“Santana's Head Cheerleader,” Blaine answers for her, his enthusiasm as forced as the grin on his face. He was uncomfortable before, but without Kurt there he is seriously tempted to make excuses about needing the restroom like he'd had to do that time after Rachel kissed him.

“Whatever,” Santana says, throwing up her hands and rolling her eyes. “Look, Red Pollard, you and me needs to have a little chat, girl to girl.” She follows Blaine's desperate look over to where Kurt is tapping his foot behind the most indecisive coffee buyer in northwestern Ohio. “Probably best to leave Seabiscuit out of this one,” she warns. “Dave told me that he saw you.”

Blaine tears his eyes away from Kurt and notices Sebastian's amused expression. Could the situation be any more awkward? “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

“Dave. Saw. You.”

“Dave?” Blaine swallows the nervous lump in his throat as Santana arches her brow at him. Kurt was right, she is a black widow spider in a cheerleader's uniform. And then it hits him: a memory of her dancing at prom – what had Kurt said? Devil in a Red Dress. “ _Karofsky_?”

Even her nod of affirmation is sarcastic. “You mean...” The bar. “ _Oh_. Why do you and I need to discuss that?”

“Look – sometimes I think that maybe I could like you --”

“High praise indeed.”

“But if you screw up like that again, I will cuts you. Britts says you two are ducks and if anything happens to prove her wrong, it'll make her cry. So you best not have forgotten about the razorblades, Anderson, cause my pony is chock full of 'em.”

“Your threats, although terrifying, are really unnecessary, Santana. Kurt and I have already discussed it and, frankly, it's none of your business.”

“Well, frankly, Rhett Butler, I'm makin' it my business.” Blaine wants to run away and _badly_. He takes a huge chug of his coffee and curses under his breath when it burns his tongue.

“What do you mean by ducks exactly?” Sebastian interjects, leaning towards Santana with a winsome smile. “I'm completely lost.”

“How is that possible? You can see over everybody in this joint, Geoffrey.”

“My name is Sebastian.”

“Like I care.”

“Care about what?” Kurt asks. He's smiling in a highly amused sort of way that makes Blaine suspect that he overheard at least the last part of the conversation.

“Two cookies, Hummel? You tryin' to fatten me up?”

“Just want to be sure you have enough energy for Brittany later. Plus, I was amused that they're serving Christmas cookies already.” He straightens the Christmas tree and reindeer as he sets the plate down on the table in front of Santana. “They could at least wait until after Black Friday.”

“Kurt's favourite holiday of the year.” Kurt gives Blaine what he considers to be _his_ Kurt smile as he settles down beside him and picks up his coffee. Blaine eases back into his chair and breathes deeply. With Kurt back maybe it won't be so bad.

“I went shopping with Kurt last year,” Santana says around a bite of the reindeer's head. “It was epic. Elbowed an old lady in the throat for a scarf.”

“Kurt that's terrible!” Sebastian settles back into his seat looking smug and Blaine wishes he hadn't made his voice sound so angry. Why is he letting this guy get to him?

Kurt rolls his eyes skyward. “She's exaggerating, Blaine. Besides, I bought that scarf for you so you're welcome.”

“And she totally had it coming. Bitch was stalking us.”

“It's the price one pays for fashion,” Kurt says sagely, patting Blaine on the arm.

“But really, what sort of fashion would one really find around here that's worth having? When I lived in Paris --”

Santana turns cold eyes on Sebastian and he stops mid-sentence. “Jesus, and I thought you were pretentious, Porcelain. Shut your trap, Gargler, I'm trying to have a conversation with Mom and Mom.”

Blaine sets his coffee down with a sigh. He knows how much Kurt is enjoying watching Santana take Sebastian down a notch – it is probably the only reason he invited her to sit with them – but she really does take things too far. “Does everything you say have to be extremely offensive?”

“Oh you love me, Blainers. You love everybody. That's your problem. If you were more of a throat-elbowing bitch like your boyfriend then Manboobs wouldn't be shutting you down every time you open those big dick sucking lips of yours in the choir room. You're way too nice.”

And once again, Santana takes things too far -- though Blaine worries that she may have a point. Not about Blaine's lips, but about Finn. Well, maybe about the lips too, he supposes. He closes his eyes and clasps Kurt's hand in his. This is quite possibly the worst coffee date he and Kurt have ever been on. Maybe even worse than their argument during his brief sexuality crisis, and that had involved raised voices and him storming out without his coffee.

Santana takes another bite of her cookie, thoroughly decapitating the reindeer, and hums in satisfaction. “You should probably check the vicinity for Coach Sue before eating that. I'd hate for her to break out the fire extinguisher and douse you in fire retardant chemicals like she did to poor Jeanette that day they were serving corndogs in the cafeteria.” Kurt takes a long drink of coffee then gives Blaine a little crooked smile. He's doing his part to get them out of there, bless him, and Blaine loves him all the more for it.

“Coach can suck it. I'm getting my cookie on. A girl needs more in her diet than Tabasco sauce and gravel.”

“That woman made you eat gravel?” Blaine would probably never believe half of the stories he'd heard about Sue Sylvester if he'd never met her in the flesh.

Kurt shrugs like it isn't that big of a deal. “Well, drink it. It was finely ground.” Blaine starts to ask how that possibly makes it any better, but refrains – he is going to shut the hell up and drink his coffee so he can escape this torture as soon as is humanly possible.

“Ah, hot sauce, lemon juice and gravel. The Master Cleanse,” Sebastian says. “Kurt, you were a cheerleader?” He sounds derisive. Mr. Lacrosse Player. Blaine wants to inform him of just how strong and flexible cheerleading has made his boyfriend, thank you very much. Coach Sylvester may be crazy, but _damn_ Kurt is bendy.

“God you're a douchebag. I shall call you Douchey McGayGay. Or Douchey: The Gargling Gay Giraffe.”

And now Kurt is full-on giggling. “Now now, Santana. Be nice,” he says. It's obvious to everyone in a five mile radius that he doesn't mean it.

She flashes Kurt a toothy smile – her real smile – and sips her coffee.

“So what are you and Britt up to tonight?” Kurt asks. “Or do I not want to know?”

“We'll probably get our Sweet Valley High on and then maybe play 100 questions.”

“What's 100 questions?”

“Well, you know how Britts gets confused? We play this game so I can explain stuff to her, you know? Like square roots and why eggs aren't actually baby chickens and that it's not okay to feed cow meat to cows, or other cats to Lord Tubbington.”

“That's kind of weirdly sweet of you, Santana.”

Santana waves off Blaine's praise and fiddles with the sleeve on her coffee cup.“Like yesterday, I was explaining how Rachel's dads managed to bring her to life like Frankenstein's monster. Britts told me that since you two are ducks, when we're older and finished college she wants to cook your pretty gay babies for you in her body's Easy Bake Oven.” Santana furrows her brow over her cup of coffee. “Metaphors confuse her,” she says with a shrug. “You might want to use an egg donor.”

“Aww, Britt,” Kurt says, one hand held over his heart and his lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout that Blaine finds adorable. Blaine leans his head on Kurt's shoulder and gazes up at him. _Babies_. Wow. _Kurt's_ babies. He realizes that it should be overwhelming but it's so not.

“Freaking heart eyes,” Santana mutters around a mouthful of sugary Christmas tree.

“Tell her we'll keep her posted,” Blaine says, Kurt's laughter making his head bop up and down.

“Okay, you're probably only going to come at me with some sort of nickname and witty retort – but you've just got to explain the duck thing.” Sebastian looks decidedly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation has taken.

“Ducks mate for life,” Santana says with a roll of her eyes as though it is painful to answer any question he directs at her.

“And you guys don't think someone saying that about you is the least bit weird?”

Blaine looks over at Kurt to find him with a small smile on his lips, his eyes far away. They shake their heads in unison.

“You really think it's true?” Sebastian scoffs, questioning Blaine and Blaine alone.

“Definitely.” Blaine leans in to kiss Kurt on the cheek but stops at the last moment, remembering where they are. “I hate Ohio.”

“If you boys want to get your smooch on I will totally dance around on the other side of the room and draw the attention of all the homophobic pervs.”

“Thanks, Santana,” Kurt says with a laugh. “But that won't be necessary. We're leaving anyway.”

“Right. We're off to help Kurt's dad with his campaign posters. You both have a great night.”

Blaine gathers up their empty cups and spares one last look at Sebastian's confused expression before heading towards the garbage. He sort of feels bad for the guy.

~*~

“Hey, Gargler,” Santana says the second the Lima Bean's door closes behind Kurt and Blaine. “Not that I think you could do anything to come between those two old marrieds – but keep away from Blainers. He may be too nice to tell you to fuck off, but I'm sure as hell not.” She leaves her empty plate and cup on the table and struts out of the coffee shop with her ponytail swishing behind her.

 


End file.
